Robin's Nest
by Montley
Summary: Molly sighed as her fingers ruffled through her scrapbook. It was for Arthur, for him to see all of the memories they had shared, the memories they created and smiles on the children's faces, before it was too late.


Robin's Nest

By Montley

Molly sighed as her fingers ruffled through her scrapbook. It was for Arthur, for him to see all of the memories they had shared, the memories they created and smiles on the children's faces, before it was too late.

She held the scrapbook against her chest, feeling the blackness of the Burrow's air around her, the darkness and the sadness that was to come. A tear strolled down her cheek, but she wiped it away before opening the door to her and Arthur's bedroom.

"Hello dear," she greeted as she made her way towards the bed and sat on the edge near Arthur.

"Morning Mollywobbles," he said with a weak smile. Molly smiled as her cheeks grew red; that name never stopped making her blush. She placed the scrapbook to her side, in front of Arthur's covered feet as she pulled a wet, wash cloth out of her pocket. She scooted closer to Arthur and ran the cloth over his forehead.

"Any different, dear?" she asked as the cloth wet his face.

"I'm sorry to admit, but worse, Molly," he answered. He brought his arm to his face as he began to cough. Molly looked at the coughing man with pity and sadness, tears threatening to spill out of her watery eyes.

"Are you sure you don't want to be admitted?"

"I'm an old man," he responded. "There's not much St Mungo's would be able to do for me besides a diagnosis. As much as it pains me, it's my time."

"Oh, Arthur!" Molly exclaimed as the tears ran down her face. Arthur lifted the covers off of the bed and scooted down, allowing Molly entrance. She brought her plump body under them and cuddled next to him, burying her head on the crook of his shoulder, her tears staining it.

"What's that there?" he asked, his toes wiggling in front of the scrapbook.

"Oh just something I made for you," she answered as she started to wipe the tears away from her face. She sat up in bed and reached for the scrapbook. She turned towards the side table and reached for Arthur's glasses, which helped him in his old, fragile age. She handed them to him and he took them, adjusting them on his face. Lying back down, she placed the scrapbook on their laps and opened to the first page.

It was Bill on the day he was born, cuddled in Arthur's arms. He was smiling while Bill was stretching his little arms, welcoming himself into the world. It was hard for Molly to imagine sometimes that Bill had grown and left her nest long ago, already with a wife and three children, her first baby.

Arthur flipped through the pages of the scrapbook, smiling at the memories, pausing only to cough. Then there was a picture of Charlie as a baby. Arthur had taken a picture of him at the perfect moment, as he was weeping. It admittedly saddened Molly to know that Charlie never settled down, it was as though he was married to the dragons in Romania. She knew that he would be arriving the next day to see Arthur, and stay until - well, Molly did not want to think about that.

Percy's smiling chubby face came next; one would never think that a smiling baby like that would grow to be so stern. Though, no matter what Percy had done, Molly was proud of him. And it made her feel special knowing that one of his children was named after her, truly showing Percy's true colors.

Then came the twins, two happy, bumbling babies, laughing at most anything that occurred around them. Molly remembered listening to their sweet laughs that would brighten any black day. It pained her to see the pictures of Fred, her Freddie, a boy who had died too young. She sighed looking at their page throughout the years, seeing the last picture she had ever snapped of Fred, working diligently in his shop. She could remember the day clearly, as his coffin sank into the open ground, mourners all around. She had wanted to believe that it was all a dream. She wished to never suffer through it again, but looking at Arthur, she knew that it was inevitable.

Arthur leaned towards her and planted a kiss on the top of her head with his chapped, pink lips. Molly wished that the moment could last forever, in an on-going continuous cycle so that he would never leave her nest empty.

Ron's freckled, red face was on the next page. And Molly was able to smile once more, remembering Ron as a child. Now he too was grown, married to a girl who she had always thought he would marry, the way she had thought that she would grow to marry Arthur. Seeing Ron as a baby made her wish to rewind the clocks and raise her babies once more, coddling them, snuggling them and loving them, never letting go. Arthur would be young and healthy again, doing what he loved and raising a family that he held dear. Those were the days that Molly treasured and was thankful for.

Ginny, her only girl, or as Molly preferred, Ginevra, was on the next page of the book. Since Molly was a little girl, she had hoped to grow and have a big family, full of love and happiness, one that would love her as well. She dreamed of having a little girl, one who she would pass her toys down to, and who she would talk about boys with and help her with her day to day issues. Ginny completed her wish and her family, a large family of nine happy redheads. And she too was married with children, out of the nest, and had already began her own.

Arthur finished flipping through the scrapbook with a wide smile on his face and a tear strolling down his cheek. Molly wiped it away with her thumb and pressed her lips against his. Arthur turned and held Molly's hand in his, giving it a squeeze.

Molly sighed, opening her lips and having trouble uttering the words she desired to say to him. The words with which she tell him how she would miss him, his smiling face, his laugh, his hair, even his obsession with Muggles, and the love they shared.

"Didn't we have fun though?" Arthur asked her with a small chuckle.

"We did, dear," she responded, squeezing his hand as his bright blue eyes that she loved slowly closed, falling into a deep slumber for the night.

She hovered her hand over his mouth, feeling his breath tickling her hand. Reassured, she took his askew glasses off of his face and placed them once more on the side table, where they would forever remain. She then lay against the bed, cuddling against Arthur for the last time.

* * *

_This was for:_

_The Quidditch Competition: Round Four with the prompts, black, glasses and "Didn't we have fun though?" My main prompt was the setting, Burrow._

_HP Potions Competition: Doxycide_


End file.
